


you terrible thing you (beautiful thing you)

by Gabby



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), In Control with Kelsey (Web Series)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dream-like state, Dreaming, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Foreplay, Gen, Getting Together, I'm Sorry, Insomnia, Like I’m not kidding, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Seduction, Sleeplessness, Sorry Not Sorry, especially at the end like I can’t even, like it gets a little sweet which is fine but, this is porn guys, yeah this is fucking porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabby/pseuds/Gabby
Summary: In the haze of his brain nowadays, all he knows is that his focus keeps going in random directions like, the amounts of cracks on his desk or how annoying Shane sounds when he forgets his order at lunch or god, how good Kelsey’s hair smells up close.(wait, what?)He should really... take a nap or something.





	you terrible thing you (beautiful thing you)

**Author's Note:**

> I ship this very hard, okay?! That and the fact that I’ve learned very recently is that Ryan Bergara sleeps four hours a night conspired to create this.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! ;)) 
> 
> Title is from the song Terrible Thing by AG & Brad Gordon.

The fact is, Ryan should be heading to dream land right about now.

Instead, he’s staring at his ceiling and counting sheep.

Or cows.

Or... _goats_.

Wow, he’s tired. 

He hasn’t been this exhausted in forever and it’s really starting to get to him in a big way.

His work.

His friendships.

His-

Okay, he probably should... explain how it is that this lack of something important (or so, others have said), like sleep and general rest and good health-

He wants to tell you-

He fucked up.

He fucked up real bad.

 

It all begins on a crisp Sunday night - jesus’s day, how  _dare_ it? - three in a half weeks before, when Ryan Bergara realizes that he’s received an unwelcome visit from an old friend.

An old friend named  _insomnia_.

And the fucker wants to stick around for a bit, it seems.

(he’s not- he will not deal with this again!  has not since college and final exams were a living nightmare in his 20-year-old life, okay? fuck it!!)

He doesn’t sleep Sunday night.

And the night after that.

And not the night after that either.

He tries everything: from chamomile tea (who drinks that anymore?) to hard core sleep aids from the highest shelf of the medicine aisle at Rite-Aid.

Nothing works.

Nothing.

Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Eventually, he starts subsisting on whatever he can. Coffee. Red Bull. 5 Hour Energy. 

Anything.

It makes his roommates crazy.

Soon, the crazy starts spreading to his co-workers and he knows he’s pretty lucky to at least have a work place that utilizes a room made for naps.

He tries. Truly. 

He thinks the location change might help and the soothing noise machine might assist-

He nearly throws the thing out the window.

Fuck.

 

He should recognize that things have gone pear-shaped when  _Shane_ is alarmed even.

”Dude!”

”What?!” He starts from where he’d been slumping in his chair.

He was paying attention. Honest.

It’s just- 

_Fucking fuckity fuck._

He just wants to sleep.

”What the hell is up with you, man?”

The thinly veiled concern in his friend’s voice only serves to piss him off further for some reason.

And he viciously squashes down something like guilt that stems inside him when Shane notably flinches at his ensuing outburst.

 _Ugh_. Whatever.

Luckily, the other man has thicker skin than he does.

”I’m gonna take off right now.” Shane says, as annoyingly calm as ever. “I’m just gonna let you do whatever it is you need to do to calm yourself.”

He hates this. He hates being treated like this because it only makes him feel like a temperamental child.

(yes, he does admit later on that that’s exactly what he’d been behaving as when he’s a lot more awake and remorseful.

 _now_ , though.)

He only allows himself to feel bad when he’s been alone for a full five minutes.

But, yup, he will cop to it, he’s a total asshole when the occasion calls for it so, it doesn’t necessarily stop him from responding as such when he hears footsteps near the door to the office set.

He groans into his hands without looking up, exasperation bleeding into his ever present rage. “Ugh, god, Shane, I thought I told you to fuck off.”

Instead of a sarcastic reply like he had been expecting, there’s only an awkward silence before he hears a decidedly  _female_ throat clear. “Um...”

His head shoots up so quickly that he almost gets whiplash from it to see Kelsey, wide-eyed and clearly surprised, at the door way.

”Sorry. Not Shane.”

And instantaneously and for the first time since precious sleep has evaded him, he feels like the biggest piece of shit.

(forget dishonoring his poor father’s name, his full name should be Ryan ‘I’m a Giant Dick’ Bergara)

He knows he must still be scowling because she adds. “Should I come back later?”

She already looks half way like she’s gonna leave almost as quickly as she arrived and for some reason -  _for some reason? ha!_ his future self would cackle - a part of him protests so violently that he mistakes it for nausea in the moment.

He’s already shaking his head before he can stop. “No.” He clears his dry throat when the word comes out croaked. “ I mean, what’s up?”

She takes that as encouragement and steps fully inside and he has to snap his eyes back up to keep from staring at her bare legs as she stops next to him.

He blinks hard to blot out the dots in his vision.

Tired. He’s just tired.

“Are you okay?” 

Strangely, the bits of worry in Kelsey’s voice don’t irritate him nearly as much as it did with Shane. “I’m fine.” He answers automatically.

”Really?” She’s doing that thing where she tilts her head to the side to look at him as if to figure out if he’s lying.

The office lighting makes her hair look soft and shiny.

He ruffles his fingers through his own hair to keep from reaching out to see just  _how_ soft.

He needs to chill the fuck out.

”You don’t look okay.” She adds smartly, shifting closer and nearly sitting on the desk, which makes him see for the first time that she’s holding a steaming, pleasant smelling to-go mug that she places in front of him.

”What’s this?” He asks, if only to stave off thoughts of her hair and keeping his itchy fingers to himself. 

“It’s a special tea blend.” She says, the floral smell coming from the cup suddenly making sense. “Thought it would help a little.”

Surprise cuts through his tired haze and he feels himself blink at her. “How did you-?”

”You’re not the only one who loses sleep every now and then.” She interrupts, nodding towards the cup. “Drink it.”

Her tone of voice sounds almost like she’s ordering him.

It’s really cute.

He looks at her and then at the cup.

(it does smell good.)

(she’s beautiful.)

He takes a big gulp without thinking... nearly coughing up a lung as it hits him how hot it is.

”Easy.” She’s there, patting him on the back and leaning close. “It’s a little hot.”

”No-“ He coughs again and tries to clear it up. “-No shit. Are you trying to kill me?”

He hears her exhale a small laugh and the ensuing gust of breath in his face makes him turn after catching his air...

...only to lose it again after he sees how close she still is.

Hand on his shoulder, she meets his gaze with big, blue eyes. “You okay?” She asks softly.

This close, he can see flecks of green in her eyes. The flush of her cheeks. The pink of her mouth.

He needs sleep.

She smells good. Like something sweet and subtle.

He’s tired. He’s so tired. He just wants to feel something-

He’s leaning in before he could stop it.

Her gasp is the sweetest sound he’s heard in a while as he noses under her jaw. Fingers tightening into his shirt.

(he’s dreaming. he has to be.)

She smells like... like sunshine and vanilla and honey and he just wants a taste-

_“Ryan...”_

The nip at her throat earns him another beautiful sound, wet and wanting, that shoots straight to his gut and lower.

_”Ryan...”_

He doesn’t wanna wake up. He never wants to wake up. Not from this.

Not from the litany of his name spilling from her pretty lips. 

Not this. Never this.

(why hadn’t he thought of this before?)

”Ryan.”

Oh.

Oh, okay, that one sounds different.

Wait. Hold on.

_(wait.)_

He starts to remember. He’s at work. He’s not asleep. Has not been sleeping.

He wasn’t sleeping now.

Which means-

Which means...

_oh god._

_no. no. no. no!_

”Ryan.”

He pulls away and everything comes back at once and she’s there. Kelsey. Looking at him with big, surprised eyes full of something that looks a lot like want-

His stomach drops at the sight of the obvious hickey under her jaw.

The stubble burn marking her pale throat.

He feels sick.

_shit. shit. shit. shit..._

He gets outta there.

”Ryan!”

 

(sooo... in case you forgot:

he fucked up.)

 

He becomes even more of an asshole in the coming weeks.

If anything, sleep becomes his enemy even more.

Except for Shane, he’s keen to avoid most people at work.

(he stays away from Kelsey.)

fuck.

In the haze of his brain nowadays, all he knows is that his focus keeps going in random directions, like the amounts of cracks on his desk or how annoying Shane is when he forgets his order at lunch or god, how good Kelsey’s hair smells up close.

( _wait, what?_ )

He should really... take a nap or something.

But, every time he closes his eyes to try, he can’t stop thinking about That Day.

About how much of a fucking idiot he is.

He is certifiable.

He is- 

He is... very stupid.

(and not just because of what he did, which, yeah, okay,  _that_ , too, because he was way outta line and has no idea why he hasn’t received a notice from HR yet...

and yet...)

He’s more pissed off - on a deeper, more personal level - that he had been this blind for this long. 

It’s just to him she’s always been just Kelsey.

Smart and friendly and sweet and funny.

How had not seen it before? 

How had he not seen  _her_ before?

How had he not seen how beautiful she is?

He hadn’t not noticed. Anybody with eyes could look at her and see. But, not like this.

It takes everything in him to avoid allowing himself to succumb and close his eyes and allow his thoughts to run.

To dream.

To fantasize about that day.

How his imagination would have taken the situation and spun it.

He physically wants to shake himself silly.

No, he’s a pig. It was a mistake and he feels badly over it and if she would ever speak to him again...

At worst, he disgusts her and she wants absolutely nothing to do with him anymore. Friendship or otherwise.

Or at best, she probably feels pity for him and thinks that in his weakened, sleep-deprived state, he’d soon as jump anyone on two legs.

Both, to be honest, sound  _really_ depressing.

He can’t stop thinking about her.

Her warmth. Her concern for him. Her thoughtfulness in bringing him tea that day.

Her smile.

Her eyes.

The scent of her skin.

And, he thinks, most disturbingly, how much he had never wanted anyone else so much in one single moment.

(how much he... never wanted to let her _go_.)

He groans, thumping his head on his desk.

It’s gonna be a long day.

 

He doesn’t plan on telling anyone about his mishap.

He doesn’t.

Until a Friday night when Shane and Sara invite him over for pizza and a movie night.

Shane (the asshole) snorts into his pepperoni slice and Sara throws a breadstick at his face.

“I hate you both.” He says without real heat as they both laugh at the part where he runs off.  

He has wonderful friends.

“You pussy.” Shane cackles, tears running down his face in his mirth.

”Fuck you.” 

And it continues throughout the night, too.

“Sara, can you pass the popcorn, please?”

”I don’t know, are you gonna try and kiss me if I do?”

Then:

”Dude, stop it!”

”What? I’m just building a pillow wall. If I’m to remain with my virtue intact, I’m gonna need boundaries, man.”

And yet, someway, somehow, in between _Lethal Weapon_ and  _Die Hard_ -

His world goes black.

He doesn’t even fully comprehend that he’s finally fallen asleep til he’s actually waking up to a mug of coffee being shoved under his nose.

”Waky-waky, sleepy head.”

He only mumbles, slightly bothered by the fact that his sleep is being interrupted by-

wait. what?

He shoots up so fast that both Shane and Sara, already dressed for the day, reel back in surprise at the same time.

”Did I-?” He starts asking in lieu of apologizing, looking up and around his surroundings as if to see if he is where he thinks he is. “Did I fall asleep?”

He can feel his hair standing in different directions on top of his head and he’s certain that he sweated through his clothes and drooled a bunch on the couch cushion he passed out on.

He feels the way he’s felt when he has broken a fever. Not... _great_ but, better than he did before.

He still feels shitty.

But, he slept.

yay.

”Coffee?” Sara offers the still steaming mug to him and he takes with more gratitude than he’s ever felt for anything.

Soon, though, he knows he has to get up and face the day so, after he finishes the coffee, he takes his friend’s offer to drop him at home.

”Hey.” Sara pulls him aside, just the two of them, for a moment after they arrive at his house while Shane stays back in the car.

She looks him in the eye, uncharacteristically serious. “Talk to Kelsey.”

At the expression that he’s sure is painted on his face, she adds, with a great amount of confidence. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise.” 

All he can do is nod dumbly so that she’s satisfied enough to leave him staring, utterly baffled, as they drive off.

After that, he finds that he has enough repaired energy to run errands, go to the gym, and take a nice, long hot shower.

(whether or not his mind travels to a certain blonde while he’s in there will stay his business.)

He even cleans his kitchen.

To the utter confusion of his roommates, who file in together with matching expressions of sheer horror at the scene.

”Bergara, is that you?”

”Fuck off, Tucker.” He bites back with enough good humor that he hasn’t possessed in a long while that his friends shrug and move on.

There’s a part of him that knows he’s also trying to burn off excess energy to ensure that he goes to sleep again that night.

He does and the minute his eyes close, he dreams of blonde hair and blue eyes and warm, naked skin-

Again, his business.

 

Eventually, he starts sleeping regularly again.

If anything, he sleeps a lot more than before.

The only unfortunate side effect of getting more rest is that his once fog-infested mind is starting to think more clearly about certain things.

Situations. People.

Person.

What the fuck did Sara mean?

_”Talk to Kelsey. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”_

And the look on her face. Like she knew something he doesn’t.

Has Kelsey talked to her? 

About what happened? About him?

He doesn’t- he has no-

Fuck.

He still hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

When he was crazy out of his mind with no sleep, the only clear image his stupid brain could conjure would be her.

And now that he’s back to getting much needed rest, it’s all he can not to obsess over this.

Anyways...

Regardless of what he wants, who’s to say she even remotely feels the same way he does.

He has no specific words for it.

All he knows is that when his mind does go in her direction, it’s with an almost crippling,  _aching_ desire.

(which brings to mind a truly mortifying incident in which one of his roommates had walked in on him, uh, _enjoying_ the fruits of such desires one morning after an especially explicit fantasy.

they didn’t look each other in the eye for the rest of the day.)

And, as if fate thinks it’s funny to fuck with him, they haven’t seen each other since That Day.

Somehow, in a workplace where it’s nearly impossible sometimes to not run into people, they hadn’t come into one another’s sights again.

He has not physically seen any sign of how she might have felt about what happened.

Was she embarrassed? Repulsed? Is she still?

Or... is she running the whole thing around in circles in her head like he has? 

Constantly asking herself what he might be feeling?

Does she think about him, too?

Does she... want him like he wants her?

Because he does _want_ her. An all-consuming, heart wrenching want. 

He’s not just being a total horn dog, though. There’s more to it than that.

The way she had looked at him that day.

Like she was concerned about him. Like she was genuinely  _worried_ about him.

And it’s not like he has some Florence Nightingale fetish or anything. 

It’s just... 

The way she seemed to care had struck a cord in him.

He wonders just how closely she had been observing him to notice what was wrong with him.

Admittedly, he’d been a dick more often than not due to his damn lack of sleep.

But... was she watching him?

Was she looking at him because of his much talked about mood?

Or was she looking at him because she cared well before then?

Does she... like him? 

And for how long? 

How long has he been blind and stupid?

(well, he knows the answer to that last one is a definite _long enough, dumbass_.)

 

(as it turns out, though, trying to control his impulse to do what he usually does when it comes to women - which is just to go for it and jump in head first - isn’t all that difficult because he finds, surprisingly, that’s exactly what he wants to do.

take it easy. slowly. she’d probably like that. she deserves at least that much.

he thinks that might be a good sign. possibly.)

 

He shoulda known that his first mistake was telling Shane about _anything_ involving Kelsey.

He shoulda known his absolute dipshit of a friend would in turn tell Sara.

(many times throughout his friendship with them, he has frequently envied their love. their chemistry and commitment to each other. the way they make relationships look natural and easy.

it’s beautiful. honestly.

but, at times like this, he hates it.)

It’s a Friday when it all comes to a head.

It’s a nice, sunny typical California day and he rises without an alarm, feeling especially energized and ready to roll.

He heads to the gym first after a good, hefty breakfast.

Even though he hasn’t necessarily seen it’s merits until recent years, working out is something he has come to appreciate.

Albeit, at times, begrudgingly.

He enjoys the feeling of starting the day like this. Burning off the kinks of the week and the endorphin rush.

The whole ritual also encourages him to step out of his own head. To not think so hard.

Which is, at most, nearly impossible.

Nevermind that it helps his clothes fit better. Makes him look and feel stronger.

He’s not ashamed that it gives him a small boost of confidence when some of the ladies at work give him passing comments.

It’s nice to be complimented sometimes.

After that, he goes home, showers, and dresses in a dark red henley, dark jeans, and his _ghoul_ boots.

He takes it easy with the product on his hair after a wash, slaps on aftershave, and heads out to work.

All in all, it’s a good, productive day and he gets an amazing amount done, even by his own standards.

And really, he should be more suspicious when Shane asks him to hang back in the empty office set.

(he’s an idiot, _has_ he mentioned he’s an idiot?)

All of ten minutes go by and he starts to wonder what the hell is going and why he’s being made to wait this damn long.

He finally decides to get up and search out his friend to see what the-

The door is locked.

The. Door. Is. Fucking. Locked.

 _shit_.

He’s gonna kill Shane. He will straight up murder his best friend because he is sure there is no part of this that was an accident.

He knows Shane and the asshole did not lock this door by happen stance.

 _motherfucking_ _fucker._

After several struggles of trying pry the damn thing open, he then has to just settle for plopping down on top of the desk and fuming in silence for five more minutes.

Until...

...The door is suddenly unlatched, pushes open, and a very familiar, protesting blonde figure is nearly _shoved_ in.

”Hey!” She sputters, looking more flustered and disheveled than normal.

The door is heard quickly locked again and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to call Shane a _fucking_ _dick_ for doing this.

Whatever _this_ is.

(this all happens in seconds.)

Then... she looks up and in his direction, their eyes meeting for the first time since that weird moment in this very room.

His heart freezes inside his chest.

 _Kelsey_.

”Wha-?” She looks at a loss and doesn’t seem to know what to say when faced with him now.

He’s not doing much better.

Yet- 

His eyes are struggling to not enjoy the sight before him.

She’s wearing dark skinny jeans and a figure-skimming, flowy, light button-up that looks as if it’d be very soft if he touched it. Her golden hair free and spilling over her shoulders.

She looks good.

Pretty. Professional.

He wants so badly to sink his teeth into her.

As if, because, maybe he hadn’t really taken the time to truly admire her before. To actually _drink_ her in.

And now that he’s started, he can’t seem to stop.

He doesn’t know if he wants to, anymore.

”Ryan.” She’s looking at him, too, eyes darting over and around him like she can’t decide whether she should or not.

And he doesn’t think he’s imagining how breathless she sounds.

Still, she looks insanely uncomfortable.

That’s the last thing he wants.

Truly, he would give anything for her to be as comfortable as possible. 

Especially around him.

Still, if being away from him would be best-

The sad spiral of his thoughts is quickly intercepted by a loud banging at the door.

”Hey!” A voice, clearly recognizable as Sara, rings out from behind the one thing keeping them from freedom. “We don’t hear talking! Start saying words or we’re not letting you out!”

He sighs out loud. 

He expected this shit from _Shane_ but, Sara?

These two are unbelievable when really put to the test.

”I’m sorry about this.” He offers sincerely to Kelsey as he walks over to the door and starts banging his own fist against it. 

“Sara! Shane!” He says loud enough for them to hear him yet trying not to yell in Kelsey’s ear as she has also stationed herself beside him to listen against the door, her perfume hazing his thinking. _Focus!_ “I know he’s out there with you. This isn’t fucking funny! Let us out right now!” 

He swears he’s gonna rip Shane’s balls right off his body once he gets out of here.

And Sara-

Well, he’d never do anything to Sara. He _adores_ Sara. Sara’s great. She just has an idiot boyfriend who shares her love of fucking with people.

But, that’s beside the point.

”Guys!” Kelsey hollers next to him, thumping her palm against their prison door. “Please let me out. I haven’t eaten since lunch. I can’t do this now! Please!”

”Kelsey. Talk to him. You said you wanted to!”

Big, blue, panicked eyes meet his own as a million and one questions race through his mind, heaping on top of the many stacked up from the past couple of weeks.

There’s an awkward silence.

Then.

“What’s she talking about?”

”I don’t-“ She’s shaking her head, nerves getting to her, he could tell as much. “Sara.” She groans, thumping her forehead against the door. “I can’t believe you.”

This time it’s Shane’s voice filtering into their eyes, with a distinct note of triumph. “We’ll see you guys in an hour!”

He wants to punch the door only if to _imagine_ his best friend’s flinch.

But, he doesn’t wanna break so...

 _so_...

 

Almost an hour later...

They haven’t talked and he’s pretty sure his two devil friends, well-intentioned or not, hadn’t anticipated this kind of result.

Result being that he would spend over thirty minutes being mostly ignored by the woman of his dreams.

He hates himself.

At one point, he had situated himself on the floor nearly under the desk, knees splayed out in front of him.

All the while Kelsey has stayed right near the door, leaning on it for support.

Pretty much not having come anywhere near him.

So, it surprises him when he drudges up some courage at some point and asks. “Do you wanna come sit?” Gesturing to the area next to him.

And then she replies. “Okay.”

And so here they are.

He probably shouldn’t have asked in the first place because being this close to her is making things... _difficult_.

Not that it wasn’t difficult before but, it just keeps hiking up to a whole new level.

He just can’t-

She smells good and is so beautiful, it makes him _stop_ _breathing_.

He’s starting to think that he just has thing for her perfume, whatever it is. 

A thing for _all_ of her, really.

Her shiny, golden hair. Those expressive blue eyes of hers. Her smooth fair skin. The dainty slopes of her face. The perfect pink of her lips-

“Stop it.”

He blinks, not having fully realized that he’s been actively staring at her until she has spoken. “Huh?”

She keeps her eyes in front of her, her voice slightly tense. “Stop looking at me.”

 _I_ _wasn’t_ is firmly on the tip of his tongue but, truth wins out in the end and he instead says. “You’re right. I, uh-“ He redirects his gaze and clears his throat. “Right. I’m sorry.”

”It’s okay.” She adds, sounding like it was anything but. “Just... please stop.”

He slants his eyes back to her as if by impulse alone, watching the softening flex of her slim, pale neck. “I will.”

But, he doesn’t stop. He can’t.

”Ryan?”

”Yeah?” He’s not playing fair. He knows that but, he wants _something_ out of her. Any reaction.

”You’re still staring.” 

“I’m sorry.” He repeats and he is, truly but- “I can’t help it.” He adds, voice softer than he would ever allow with anyone else.

“Ryan-“

”I think we should talk.” He hurries to say before he could even think to be pussy out by the anxious tone of her voice.

She still won’t look at him and he can’t take his eyes off her.

Story of his life.

As it is, once he’s opened his mouth and begun, he quickly figures out that he hasn’t a clue where to start.

She shifts next to him, moistening her lips and very aware of his gaze still on her. “Listen, Ryan, we really don’t have to talk about-“

He needs to stop being a jackass and interrupting her but, the words rush out of his mouth anyway. “I thought I was dreaming.”

If he wasn’t _absolutely_ paying attention, he would have missed it entirely but, it happens: Her shoulders loosen a touch. That tension that’s been up to her ears since their damn friends trapped them in here together, falling away little by little.

Then, she exhales, breath hitching, and says. “Okay.”

He goes with it.

”That day...” He knows he doesn’t need to elaborate on what specific day he’s referring to. “... I thought I was dreaming. I hadn’t- I wanted-“

He takes a deep breath himself, silently berating his fucking sudden babbling and forces himself to continue. “I was _exhausted_. I’m not trying to excuse what I did but, I hadn’t gotten any sleep in, I don’t know, days and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I mean, _nothing_. All day, it was a struggle to just stay on my own two feet and I couldn’t get any thoughts together in my stupid head and-“

She’s listening. He doesn’t have to look at her to know that and suddenly, it’s in reverse and _she’s_ looking at him while he’s too scared shitless to look at her.

Still, it makes him braver, somehow.

”And then, you were there. Looking at me like you cared and bringing me tea and being so beautiful and amazing and I just-“ He might regret being this forward later but, he might also regret not being honest, too. “All the sleepless nights and trying to get through working, and _fucking_ stringing sentences together and the only clear thought I had that day was you.” 

He finally looks at her again and she’s there, already looking at him.

She looks... pleased. Still nervous, sure, but, definitely pleased. A light blush staining her cheeks.  
  
He just keeps staring at her face because he can’t not. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”  
  
”It’s okay.” She says softly and she’s so _close_ suddenly. So close and beautiful and he wants her so much, it hurts.  
  
(it hurts in a way he wants to chase forever.)  
  
And it seems being a bolder version of himself is a theme today because when her lingering eyes fall to his mouth and back again, he wastes no time and shifts closer to her still.  
  
Their arms brush and he gets _fucking_ _goosebumps_.  
  
This is gonna be... really good, he could tell.  
  
He steadily watches, all the while, for signs of disinterest. Discomfort. Any reaction of not wanting this.  
  
Instead, she’s looking right back at him, eyes dark blue. Pupils blown wide. With bated breath.  
  
He knows the feeling.  
  
All the signs are there but, he asks anyway.  
  
”Can I kiss you?”  
  
His voice is nearly unrecognizable, even to his own ears. Husky. Deeper.  
  
She nods, allowing him closer and swaying towards him and his body reacts like a teenage boy as her scent goes straight to his head.  
  
“Yes?” He’s close and she’s right there with him and _yes_ , _yes_ , _yes_ , _please_ -  
  
“Yes.” She sighs as their lips hover. Brush. Tease. Tantalize-  
  
The louder than loud sound of the door unlocking has them springing apart just on time for their two jailers to see them, mischievous expressions written on their faces.  
  
”Well...” Sara asks them, no doubt spotting Kelsey’s flushed face and his possible _half-chub_ from just nearly kissing her. “...Did you guys talk?”  
  
(fucking fuck, he hates his friends sometimes.)

 

This time, _she’s_ the one to run and he gives chase. Adrenaline running through his system after the aborted kiss.

(not to mention, the _heavy_ arousal teaming through him alongside it)

”Kelsey, wait!” 

She just continues walking ahead of him, her stride strengthening and getting faster. 

“Come on! Will you hold on a minute?!”

He catches up to her in long steps and manages to grab her, as gently as he can, by the arm to turn her to face him.

”What?” She’s trying for annoyed, he could tell, but her eyes are bouncing all over him at once and that flush that’s stained her face has spread down her neck, where her pulse is visibly fluttering. “What do you want?”

She’s fooling no one. Least of all, him.

”You.” He says as truthfully as he’s ever said anything.

There’s no resistance from her as he backs her up against the hallway wall. One hand clutching his bicep and her other palm pressed over his heart.

He’s pretty sure she can feel it hammering. Feel the affect she has on him.

“ _Ryan_.” She gasps against his mouth as he cants to follow her lips to pick up where they left off. “Ryan...”

She’s still not fighting him. If anything, ample _encouragement_ radiates off her. Body curling closer to his. Allowing his willing hands to cup her waist.

But, it’s her voice stops him. There’s _want_ there, for sure, but, something- 

He stops short of kissing her, only butting their foreheads together and nuzzling his nose against her own, something dangerously close to fondness growing inside his chest.

He couldn’t care less if Shane poked his head from around the corner and teased him mercilessly if he caught them like this.

”What?” He asks, taking his chances and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and his palm to linger on her cheek, awed when she leans into his touch. “What’s the matter?”

Something faintly troubled shines in her gaze and he waits patiently until she says. “I... I wanted this. I want you.”

”Yeah, no kidding. I’ve wanted this for weeks-“

”I wanted this for longer.” She admits and he finally gets the look in her eye and _oh_.

oh.

He feels... an incredible mix of shock, pleasure, and privilege.

He feels lucky and very stupid all at the same time.

”I’m sorry.” He says for what feels like the thousandth time for the last couple of hours. 

“It’s fine.”

”No.” He shakes his head, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “No, it’s not. I... You’re incredible and gorgeous-“

”Ryan-“ 

“-and sexy and amazing and I’m so sorry that it took me so long to figure that out.”

She just looks at him with shiny, beautiful eyes that he can’t stop gazing into.

”Okay.” She nods, blushing and looking more than a little pleased. “I’ll take it.”

”Good.” 

They hold a minute. Just embracing one another.

Then.

”So...” He pulls back further than he would like otherwise. “What happens now?”

He holds back as she seems to mull over something inside her head. Biting her lip in focus.

(he wonders if she’d let him bite that lip, too.)

”Would you...” She hesitates for a small moment and then adds, softly, _hopefully_. “...like to come over later?”

He’s sure his feelings about that show very clearly on his face. 

Yet, still.

”Are you sure?”

The eyes that has featured in many ways in _all_ of his fantasies recently light up in decisiveness. “Yes.”

 

And that’s how, an hour later, he finds himself standing outside her apartment door.

He clears his throat for the one millionth time since he got there. Mulling over everything that has happened in the past few hours. The past few _weeks_.

(he stifles a laugh, remembering that this is more or less a byproduct of, among many other things, his inconveniently timed insomnia.)

He also has many hopes of where this night might go and many more ideas of what he’d like to happen.

But, even if she had invited him over just for them to end up talking all night, he would still be satisfied.

Man, he’s got it so bad, it’s not even funny anymore.

He knocks twice.

And then waits.

And when she opens the door for him, his heart is blown to pieces all over again.

He hopes, in time, that this feeling will be less intense. Less overwhelming.

Then again, he thinks he can live with it if it doesn’t.

She hasn’t changed yet. Still wearing that wispy blouse with those flattering dark jeans.

She’s refreshed herself, though. Pretty and bare-faced and even _more_ alluring than before.

(how even?)

”Hi.” She greets softly, looking beyond pleased and a little surprised. A smile lighting up her face.

Did she think he wasn’t gonna show up?

”Hey.” He could feel a responding grin forming on his lips, too.

”Do you wanna come in?” She gestures inside, slightly leaning away to make space for him to take her invitation.

She doesn’t need to ask twice and he wastes little time. Making very sure to deliberately brush their fingers together as he passes to step inside.

She closes and locks the door.

He waits again for her to turn around and face him.

It’s a minute too long as she just stands there, making up her mind. Aware of his eyes on her.

He slowly walks up behind her.

And then...

Slowly, as to not make her jump away, he softly, almost _delicately_ , slides his finger along her closed fist.

Her body is tense with nerves, like it had been back when they’d been first locked in together. Shoulders tight and locked in.

He feels her loosen again, though, breathing with him, as he touches her hand. Fist opening. The bones of her fingers feeling light and whisper-soft over his as she relaxes against him.

A breath he hadn’t even known he was holding puffs his chest out and he looks down at their now clasped hands.

They fit. Somehow, he’s unsurprised by that.

”I’m really nervous.” She says after another long minute, still having not turned around to look at him. Her voice tremulous yet steady.

His exhale ruffles her hair, a tinge of her perfume going up his nose. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Even though he hadn’t necessarily intended it to be so, that seems to do the trick and she’s shifting, turning around, and meeting his eye.

He does not have time to mourn the loss of her hand in his for very long as she only slips her opposite hand into his again.

She guides them both to her couch and he sits next to her quietly. Watching her, compelled to not let her out of his sight.

”I have to say something.” She says, turning so, their knees brush and they’re closer now. He’s not complaining. “Before...” 

She makes a fluttering gesture between them.

”OK.” He replies, more than willing to listen to whatever it is she has to say.

”I...” She takes a deep breath and he zeros in on her tongue moistening her lips. “I’ve, uh... um, had this _thing_ for you.” She adds, seeming to find the words as they come. “For... for a while, I think.” 

Her eyes hunch down to her lap, cheeks tinged dark pink.

He doesn’t bother asking for _how_ _long_  or  _why_ or anything of that magnitude because he decides in this moment, he doesn’t need to know. 

Doesn’t need to know how long he’s been this blind or have her be more embarrassed than she already is.

If she wants to tell him, he won’t stop her but, he won’t ask either. 

He contents himself with staring at her, though.

Her apartment is softly lit with the twinkle lights around her television and a bit of lighting from her kitchen.

It flatters her. Bathing her in soft, golden light that causes her to _glow_ almost.

(he’s feeling awfully poetic tonight, isn’t he?)

“You’re staring again.” 

“I know.” He says, allowing a hint of smugness to show through because she’s biting her lip to hide an impish little grin and god, he wants her.

He wants her like he’s never wanted anyone.

He’s wanted women before but, _this_ , he’s never really known before.

(it feels like honest-to-god _hunger_ , he thinks.)

Locks of hair falls further over her face and he doesn’t bother resisting the urge to comb it away.

”Ryan.” She says shakily, fully smiling, teeth and all, at his touch.

”Want me to stop?” 

“No.” She’s leaning closer, shifting, turning to him, eyes fluttering.

Through the hard pounding of his own heartbeat, he’s able to manage. “You are...” Dark blue eyes open to meet his own and _fuck_ \- “...unbelievably beautiful.”

She’s the one to lean towards him and whisper, lips parted to breathe his air. “Can I, please-?”

(as if she’d ever _need_ to ask.)

”Yeah. Yes.”

_yes, yes, yes, yes-_

She kisses him. Presses those petal soft lips against him. Warm, sweet. Almost chaste- 

He _draws_ from her. Still letting her set the pace. The sweet sigh escaping her. Teasing kittenish pecks along his mouth before he opens up and their teeth clink briefly, uneven breaths mingling together-

And then...

It would have stayed that way for longer, too, had he not thought _more,_ _more_ and slid his thumb under her delicate chin and encouraged her to open up, too-

He was right. This is as good - as _addicting_ \- as he dreamed it would be.

She lets out a small, surprised noise, into him and welcomes forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as he slides his palms up her back.

He couldn’t tell you how long they spend like that. Making out on her couch. Pressed together like this.

Eventually, it’s her tongue that touches his first and he-

He gets very _hard_.

Almost immediately.

And instead of stopping them like he should have initially, he submits to his wants, his  _need_ of her, and kisses towards her cheeks and jaw. Sucking the skin of her long neck in with his teeth.

(he wants to _bruise_ that neck. wants desperately to mark her in the most base of ways.)

 _”Oh.”_ She coos with delight as he laves attention onto that long throat. “Ryan...”

Slightly sharp fingernails dig into his scalp pleasurably - a delectable _zing_ that only adds to his desire - to drag him back for more kisses.

Deep kisses. Teasing, sucking kisses. Kisses with and without tongue. Kisses that make his blood go hot and his cock to fill and get harder still-

To take and fuck her-

The images that refuse to leave his head are what cause him to pull back finally and he heaves a ragged breath-

“No.” She’s nearly whining, pulling him back, wandering, appreciative hands all over his chest and shoulders and arms. Making him crazy. “No. Please don’t stop.”

That _don’t_ _stop_ rings through his head as he tries get a hold of himself. To catch his breath and-

She grabs his face and kisses him again. Deeply. His eyes sliding closed immediately. Biting her lip so, that she moans. Pressing her soft breasts against the wall of his chest. Tongues slipping and meeting to swallow each other _whole_.

His hands slide up and over her ribs and near the sides of her heaving breasts and the invitation to move forward is all but clear as she leans and presses closer still-

“Yes?” He hears himself rasp. His fingers at the buttons of her blouse. A deliciously explicit, erotic idea thought in his head.

She doesn’t seem to need to ask what it is he’s referring to because she’s nodding, eyes blue and dark and _wanton_. “Yes. Yes. Yes-“

”OK. OK.” He kisses her - a profoundly _filthy_ kiss - if only to gain a little more control over what happens next, though his hands still shake a little as he starts unbuttoning her shirt.

She’s making sound after sound as he follows the path of skin his fingers reveal. Nails clamped in his hair encouraging him downward.

Biting his teeth into her pale throat-

Drawing his tongue down the creamy skin of her collarbone-

She gasps as he nuzzles and mouths at the fragrant valley between her covered mounds, hands unable to _not_ come up to touch. To test the weight of them in his itchy palms.

(she smells so good here. her scent stronger and making his mouth water. to practically _salivate_ for her.)

He sucks a visibly pert nipple through the pretty satin of her bra. Hears her draw a _sharp_ , stuttering breath. Hands cupping the back of his head.

He wonders, briefly, as he heads further down to where she really needs him, if he could make her cum like this-

Just pull her bra aside and suck and lick and bite and pull-

He can (and he _will_ ) find out later. He doubts she’ll complain but, still, he has a destination to reach and-

Her blouse is gone at this point, lost somewhere behind her couch and he doesn’t need to ask and she’s all breathy sounds and whimpers as he takes her jeans down her long, smooth legs.

He’s never enjoyed being on his knees so much.

The noise she lets out as he touches her through her panties is so loud in her otherwise quiet apartment that it’s almost _obscene_. 

This whole scenario could qualify as obscene, he realizes shamelessly. They’re still doing this on her couch. In her _living_ _room_. Her front door is right there and anybody she knows with a key could come in and see-

It’s not nearly enough to make him stop, though.

She’s shaking, trembling, as he only touches her and she’s so _wet_ , messy between her legs, that he could easily unzip himself and slip right in-

He doesn’t. Only continuing to rub and tease and there’s a _flood_ , his fingers keep slipping and she’s moaning so much and her head is tipping, unsteady elbows balancing her back- 

Her gasp is louder still as he stops, only to encourage her to lie back and she watches with bated breath and big, dark eyes as he takes off his shirt.

”Ryan...” Her breasts are bouncing with her unstable breaths as she looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes, climbing onto the couch once more to get into position.

Her gaze is hot on him as he refocuses back between her legs to quickly slip off her soaked underwear, throwing it aside, to splay her thighs further apart to _reveal_ her to him.

This angle is... truly something else. He can see _all_ of her.

She is dark pink and glistening with want and when he can’t help but, lick his lips in anticipation, she physically _flexes_.

It’s gorgeous. The hottest goddamn thing he has ever witnessed.

Her impatient, aroused _‘Ryan’_ spurs him forward and he doesn’t bother with teasing anymore.

 _”Ahhh...”_ She cries out instantly as he dives right in. Sounding nearly pained with relief. “Oh my god, yes...”

He goes down on her in the same way that he had returned and deepened their kisses earlier. Licking a hot stripe right up and to her clit first. Tasting it. Feeling her _clench_ and pull him further inside as he wraps his mouth over her, using his thumb to spread her and an arm to hold her down, intent on devouring her completely-

(she’s so sweet. she tastes so unbearably good that he could- he would _love_ to stay here for hours.)

She’s moaning and crying out and writhing and struggling and thrusting towards his face as he keeps her in his grip.

The litany of her cries sound nearly she’s in pain and his name - _‘Ryan, Ryan,_ _Ryan’_ \- falling from her lips in desperation almost cause him to put her out of her misery.

He doesn’t let up, though, and through his own rapidly growing arousal, he tenaciously, almost _meanly_ , gorges on her.

His ears are roaring and he could hear his drumming heartbeat as he takes her to through her paces. A punishing beat that seems to take a bit of a toll if her echoing yells and cries are anything to go by.

_yes, baby, that’s it. just a little more._

When he finally, _finally_ , lets her go, he moans _with_ her, the vibrations setting her on fire, his broad fingers stroking and fucking and adding _all_ that pressure-

She’s shouting and sobbing, noises so sharp and high that it blows through his eardrums to the base of his skull, already sore with the way she’s clawing and pulling at his hair as she cums, hips rolling wildly at his face.

Her orgasm is a hard, harsh, _messy_ thing that rolls through them both. Agony written plainly in her voice as she falls to pieces under his hold.

Then... silence.

Absolute quiet.

With the exception of their harsh, heavy breathing, there’s... nothing. After her many _‘oh my gods’_ have tapered off some, a sort of hush follows.

It’s not... bad. It’s actually kinda nice. It’s not necessarily comfortable. There’s still too much thrumming heat in the air for that but, momentarily, it’s good.

The room feels a few degrees warmer than it did earlier and it smells like sex. _Her_ sex. Musky. Clean. Mingling with her sweat.

He could still feel the evidence of her orgasm, wet on his face and chin.

He moves, laying a small kiss on her stomach before crawling up her lithe, beautiful body, half-naked and flushed from exertion, until they’re face to face and he’s firmly between her legs.

Her face is as flushed and sweaty as the rest of her. Golden hair darkened and matted against her skin. Eyes closed to take deep breaths. Hand pressed to her probably racing heart.

She’s beautiful.

“You okay?” 

Wihout opening her eyes, she sighs, leaning into his hand as he cups her cheek. “I can’t breathe.” She says, softly, voice a bit croaked and he huffs a laugh, brushing her hair away from her face.

”I’m sorry.” He says unabashedly, leaning and nuzzling into her, feeling himself smile like an idiot. “Want some water?”

He hides a laugh at how ridiculously normal this already feels. Offering the same woman he’s just gone down on some water for her sore throat.

 _haha_.

She murmurs, leaning up and accepting his lips again for a kiss that he offers like it’s second nature ( _tasting_ herself on him). Holding his face in her hands like she’s done it a thousand times before. Mouth opening and expanding under his to receive his tongue...

He knows _something_ happened with him when she came under his mouth just a short while ago but, it doesn’t seem to have been enough and he’s still hard and she’s rising again, heat building up, her body undulating and rippling beneath him-

“More?” He asks, breath rough and heady, looking her directly in the eye to make sure.

Eyes that are dark blue and brimming with as much need and desire as his must be.

”Yes.” She kisses him. Tongue lapping at his lips to enter and claim him. Fingers skimming down his chest, his abs. All the way down to his-

He keeps kissing her even he pulls up and away. His eyes on her - always on her - even as he undoes his belt and zipper and pulls his jeans down to free himself, doing away with them along with everything else.

Finally.

His cock, hangs heavily and freely, and for a minute, he can see her indecision as to whether to allow her gaze to wander and _look_.

In the end, she does and he watches, her pupils dilated and her lips parting at the sight of him. 

Her pink tongue comes out and licks at those lips and he _throbs_ , already thinking of the many ways to-

“Is this what you want?” He fists his cock, both to gain relief and to see her eyes flutter. To see her bite her lip. Clutch her hands into the couch to resist reaching out for him.

”Yes.” The bid she extends to him is almost defiant in contrast and he has a ready image of bending her over this very couch and-

He climbs back over and the kiss they share is all heat and tongues and lust and he does not know how he’s held it together for _this_ long.

”I want you.” He admits in a shaky, sincere breath, thumping her cheekbone as she touches his face, slender fingers lingering.

( _something_ he can’t - is not ready to - name passes between them. something deeper that he wants to hold onto long after tonight.)

”I want _you_.” She offers pointedly, looking turned on and pleased and it sends a jolt through him.

Time seems to slow as he adjusts, settling comfortably between her legs. Shuddering from deep within his bones when the tip of him brushes against her, still wet and hot and _a mess_ from before.

Because of him.

“Hey.” His voice is unsteady and shaking when he thumbs her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering shut. “Look at me.”

It’s a small struggle, he can see that, yet she does as he says and he can see nothing but her. All of her.

He keeps at it even though it’s a trial as he start sliding inside her to let his own stay open.

At her surprised gasp, even worse still. Uneven breaths stuttering as she takes him farther in and yet it’s made easier by how _wet_ and _open_ and _ready_ she is.

He knows that the noise that escapes from deep with  _his_ own throat is almost inhuman as he keeps moving and pushing and going _insanely_ _deep_ on the first try-

”That’s my girl.” He whispers without meaning to even open his mouth until the endearment is already out and she _melts_ under his praise, moaning sharply in pure heat as he starts slowly fucking her into the couch cushions.

Her knees rise and bracket his hips as he pistons in and out, gripping the arm of that couch and sliding his tongue into her mouth all at once.

”I dreamed of you like this.” He ends up murmuring into her mouth, panting, his voice running away without his permission. “Did you- have you ever-?”

”Yes.” She struggles to get out the word out because he’s grabbing her hip in a bruising grip with his other hand and moving her, forcing her against him. The change in angle making him hit a spot inside that causes her to clutch at him and gasp wildly. “Yes- _fuck_ -“

He swallows her breath, if only to drown his loud groan, his own much _filthier_ swear, as she responds by dragging her nails into his shoulder and digging-

Both of them break out into a sweat. Their bodies slipping and sliding against each other-

“Go h-hard-“ She trails off on a hefty, ragged cry and his jaw tightens as she clenches and tightens and moves with him. “-harder, please-“

He’s shaking his head, his vision swimming, his blood pounding and his lungs feeling like they might give out. “No-“

(he’d give her anything, _anything_ , but he can’t- he doesn’t wanna let her go. he doesn’t want this to be over.)

Eventually he gets rid of that pretty, useless little bra of hers and spends what feels like hours praising her and adoring her and fucking her and ruining her-

She gets denied freedom every time she tries to grab for it (he hadn’t realized he had a thing for begging, really, but her begging? her _begging_...) and he grabs for her hand, tangling their fingers together to bring them over her head.

Bearing down on her like he means it,

”God...” She says, voice raspy, like it’s gonna stop working. Contrasting with the disbelieving grin on her flushed face. “I can’t _believe_ you...”

He thrusts so hard into her that she bites his lip in reprimand. A nearly _crazed_ glint in her eyes. Rubs her breasts against his chest. Moves and wiggles in his loosening grip-

He’s sure he looks no better.

But, he strengthens his hold on her, regardless and finally weaving his hand from her hip to between her thighs, his fingers _slicking_ with the two of them-

And when she cums again, it’s... _spectacular_. She shouts and gasps and bites and almost _screams_ , meeting his thrusts with her own as he fucks her through her orgasm. Hips snapping roughly to his own release when he collapses into her arms and there’s a flash of white behind his goddamn _eyeballs_ -

He thinks he blacks out for a second.

He blacks out for a second and when he comes to again, he’s lying on top of her and she’s embracing him, hugging him to her as he’d basically went dead on top of her still.

”Are you alright?” She asks softly. Probably to preserve her vocal cords.

Not that he’s gloating - he is, a little, but he knows he did some shouting and swearing and babbling of his own there so, he has no room to be cocky.

”Yeah.” He rasps, breathing her in steadily as she lightly scratches the little hairs at the back of his neck. Sweat on their bodies cooling. “I think. You?”

”Yes.” She says with an airy, tired laugh. Her fingertips working at the muscles of his back. Her voice _dripping_ with scrummy satisfaction. “I’m fine.”

So, he’s not even sorry for all the smugness that bleeds into his voice or the smile he’s sure she can feel in her neck. “Good.”

(he’s tired. he hasn’t felt this tired and satisfied in a long time but... he wouldn’t rule out another round pretty soon.)

”Good. It was my pleasure.” 

 

They make it to her bedroom at some point. After her couch is successfully, _thoroughly_ defiled for the second time, that is.

But, they do make it.

They do... _everything_ on her bed - well, not everything, there’s only so much hours, really - and he has as much regard for her pristine mattress as he did with her poor couch.

Namely, not a lot.

He can’t even let himself leave her alone for a bit to at least _shower_.

He does try... for five minutes.

(and while she does say that shower sex has never been her favorite thing in the world, he does still see opportunity there.)

Even some innocent cuddling turns to kisses which then turns into making out which then turns into her-

“Do you trust me?” He asks, breathing heavily after pulling away from her lips.

”Yeah.” She says instantly, trying to pull him back in and he lingers in the kiss for a minute too long before-

“Get on your knees.” He demands, cupping her bare breasts in his palms as she presses back into him.

”Huh?” She loses herself for a moment, moving and gyrating and cradling the back of his head, nails digging, when he sucks a bruise on her neck.

”I said...” He whispers harshly in her ear, scraping his teeth on her lobe. “...get on your knees.”

”You want me to...” She gasps, surging backwards, her ass rubbing him and oh god- “...suck you off?”

 _jesus_ , he would love nothing more. 

“No, baby.” He plants his hands on her hips. “I meant, on your hands _and_ knees.”

He pushes her then and she lets go of a giddy squeal as she lands exactly as he wants her and he doesn’t hide his cocky grin.

She may or may not have mentioned a thing or two in the height of pleasure about loving his arms and how _fucking_ _strong_ he is.

Maybe. Maybe not.

The sight of her enflamed and rosy bud opened just for him from behind compels him forward and-

“Ah!” She cries in shock as he licks her in a whole new angle, scissoring his fingers and rubbing and pinching. “Oh my god... Ryan!”

He eats her out there. The somehow forbidden position sending a thrill right through him.

But, this time, there’s no teasing and he quickly gets up, grabs her hips, and thrusts right in. 

She shouts right away.

Unlike the way he’s somehow managed to go for most of the night, he... _pounds_ her.

Takes her _rough_ and _naughty_ and  _dirty_ the way his mind has been directing him to do since he got here.

And when, in minutes, she begs him for faster and harder and _god, please, make me feel it, Ryan-_

“Give it to me!”

He does just that.

Gives everything to her. Makes her shout and scream his name and cry out as his hand smacks down on her ass, the sensation satisfying against his palm and the noises she’s making-

(he wants her thinking of him as she walks tomorrow. wants her to _twinge_ at the thought of him when she sits down.)

Her voice is as hoarse as his is when they fall over. Her sweet little muscles flexing and clenching around him and driving him crazy-

He grunts as he lands on top of her. Brand new sweat ruining the effort they had made earlier in the shower.

 _fuck_.

“Fuck.” He grits out, pulling himself out of her carefully, both of them groaning at the loss before flopping onto his back next to her.

They just lay there and breathe a while.

Then.

She peers at him with sparkling eyes and when he glances side long at her, she smiles impishly at him.

”What?”

Her smile only widens.

”I think we’ve been scaring my neighbors.”

In spite of his now shattered throat, he does laugh, high and loud, at that.

 

(they do sleep at some point. they have to. plentiful physical exertion makes you tired.)

 

He wakes up before her and sight of her, rumpled and asleep, nearly makes him rethink going back to his apartment to refresh and shower.

He plans on coming back, of course.

If she wants, that is.

He hopes she does.

It’s one thing to accept him into her bed but, it’s another to-

He shakes his head. He’s thinking too hard about this again.

She wants him, too. Last night proved that.

Last night was...

It was incredible. She was... _amazing_.

The way she had looked at him. He was so sure that-

Familiar, long fingers running up his back, nails lightly scratching up to his hair, pull him back out of his head.

”Do you have to go?” She murmurs softy, suddenly pressed against his back and he can feel her breasts through the thin sheet covering her and she’s messaging the tiny hairs at the back of his neck and fuck-

(after everything they did and they still can’t keep their hands off each other. like they’d spent all night just holding hands instead of-)

“You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?” He asks, stopping the hand creeping under his shirt with great regret.

He recognizes that her following gasp is only half-outrage. “Says the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Slow-and-Steady-“

”I’m sorry-“ He tries without any real remorse.

”Oh, yes.” She teases, trapping his arm between her breasts and leaning in close. “Please be sorry for the multiple orgasms. How _dare_ you.”

He huffs a laugh at that, clutching the hand on his stomach and accepting her morning kisses.

”Hey.” He says after pulling away from her enough to look her in the face. “I really like you.”

Her answering smile is brighter than any sun he’s ever seen.

”I really like you, too.” She says with a giddiness that he still is unable to fully understand.

He’s not that great. 

(like he’s _okay_ but-)

She is-

She is... unbelievable.

He has no clue what it is he did to deserve this but, he wants to do it over and over again.

”Stay?” She asks, drugging kisses dragging him in again and out of his head. “For a little while longer?”

”OK.” He melts into her and lets her reel him back down to the bed. “For a little while. Okay.”

(he ends up staying for a  _long_ while longer.

sue him.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know what to say about this other than I’m aware of how weird it is to ship two real people. *makes peace gesture* I’m sorry.
> 
> Anyway, I also know about my love and overuse of weird commas and parentheses and stuff in my writing so, sue me...
> 
> Also, thank you for reading and enjoying my story if you did. :)) No disrespect to any of the parties involved.
> 
> And if any of you should stumble onto said story. Uh, please don’t. Read it, I mean.


End file.
